What is Rightfully Yours
by Alpha Leonis
Summary: Even after all the time they had spent apart, Simba knew all too well that Nala wasn't exactly the type of lioness to give up easily. Her persistence was simply astonishing at times—a quality Simba loved to hate. One-shot, alternate universe.


A/N: This is actually one of my older pieces of work. Regardless, I'm uploading this anyway, just for the heck of it. I know there are lots of these sorts of stories in the world of Lion King fanfics, but this is my take on the idea.

* * *

**What is Rightfully Yours**

As dusk arrived, the tranquility of a beautiful afternoon in the African jungle faded away with diminishing rays of sunlight. Much to Simba's sudden annoyance, however, the evening serenity was quickly replaced by several loud bellows of a fierce, wild animal.

"SIMBAAAAAAA!" the call of a lioness rumbled through the mountains with nearly enough force to knock down a tree. The moist jungle air surrounding Simba was pierced by that familiar voice, obviously being that of the ferocious beast known infamously as Nala.

Simba turned his head around, upon hearing the sound of his name. To his annoyance, it was for what seemed to be nothing less than the thousandth time, just that night. Consequently, an exasperated groan of agitation escaped his muzzle.

Even after all the time they had spent apart, Simba knew all too well that Nala wasn't exactly the type of lioness to give up easily. Her persistence was simply astonishing at times, and this instance was certainly not going to be an exception for the unfortunate lion. There were never any exceptions, and that remained especially true in a time like this.

"SIMBAAAAAAAA! I _KNOW_ YOU CAN HEAR ME!" Nala continued, after only a few seconds of pause. Although the two had gone their separate ways minutes ago, she would not cease calling for him. Not ever. There was no end.

Naturally, Simba's ears flattened at the cacophony of roars. He stopped wandering about for a moment, instead pausing to think of a way to end the conversation once and for all. Never before had he wanted the lioness he loved to shut up so badly.

"I SAID FORGET IT!" Simba yelled, allowing his frustration to emerge in full clarity, from the booming patterns of his voice. Nala had been nagging him all evening, which adequately justified the rude response, from his perspective. Even as impolite as it was to talk to his best friend in such a manner, he was simply tired of hearing her babble on.

But, what else was he supposed to do? He had made it perfectly clear that he was not going to discuss his past, and he most certainly wasn't going to return to Pride Rock either.

Simply put, that was not an option. Returning to Pride Rock would have been suicide for the forgotten prince, and he knew it. Of course, Nala didn't understand—she couldn't. She didn't know any better; she had no way of knowing the truth.

And that was the way it had to be.

But unfortunately, in the lioness's eyes, Simba's argument continued to fall short, no matter how much _he_ persisted.

Shortly after hearing the echo of his own avalanche-inducing roar, Simba heard yet another yell from the lioness, which was equal in volume, if not slightly louder. "NO! I'M NOT GOING TO FORGET IT!"

Simba rolled his eyes, clenching his teeth while whispering to no lion in particular. "Oh, for the love of Ahadi! Can't she just shut up? Please! Stop!"

"COME BACK HERE!" Nala continued. "WE NEED TO TALK!"

The lion winced at her heavy, commanding words. It was beyond obvious what she was trying to do: she wanted to know what happened, and she wasn't going to leave him until she knew.

And, at that instant, it happened. For a brief moment, Simba almost considered telling her.

He had nothing to lose. He would never return to Pride Rock again, and Nala would never return to the jungle. She was already angry at him enough. Regardless of what the guilt-ridden lion told her, his relationship with Nala was a lost cause. It just wasn't going to work.

Although they had only been reunited for little more than a day, that short amount of time was enough to make Simba realize that he loved his betrothed with all his heart. The two had been best friends during their cubhood, but after their many years apart, change was inevitable. It became clear that they were destined to go their separate ways.

That was life, and Simba knew it. Whether he liked it or not, he had to face the harsh reality of the situation. She wanted to return to the Pridelands, and he couldn't. He was an exiled cub. There was simply no way he and Nala could possibly have shared a future. No amount of love could fix a dilemma of such proportions.

But, Simba quickly realized something else entirely; if that was the way it was going to be, she had to know. At the very least, Nala deserved nothing less than to know the truth.

Simba knew that the lioness would hate him for sure, if she discovered what had actually happened that day. But at the very least, then she would stop nagging for him to return. In the case that she knew the truth, she could continue her search for some other lion to challenge Scar, and as a result, Simba's family would still have some chance of survival.

Surely, that was the way it was meant to be. Nala didn't see it that way yet, but she had to. She _had_ to understand. Nala was right, after all; there was no avoiding the inevitable talk.

Not to any lion's surprise, it was not long before Nala interrupted Simba's line of thought with another roar from across the jungle. "WHAT'S TAKING YOU SO LONG?"

The red-maned lion sighed in exasperation. He had nowhere left to run, and nowhere to hide. Eventually, Nala would find him, and the confrontation would begin again. This was his chance.

But he couldn't tell her. There was no way he could simply say the truth, and especially not after he had been hiding from it for so long. It had been years since that one unfortunate day, and he had never even _considered_ telling Timon or Pumbaa about it. He was trapped.

Simba's eyes wandered down to the dirt below his front paws. He then lifted his left forepaw up, and examined the print he made in the muddy soil. Immediately, he began to have second thoughts.

What was he going to tell her? He had to think of something, and he had to do it quickly. "FINE! I'LL BE THERE IN A MINUTE!" he yelled back, trying to buy himself more time to think of an excuse.

Simba then bit the edge of his tongue out of nervousness. At the same time, he began to turn around, preparing himself both mentally and physically to walk in the direction of Nala's calls.

Unfortunately, the more he thought about it, the more he regretted ever saying anything. He had already fed the lioness many lies in the hours prior to their argument, but she obviously saw through every one of them.

Even after all their years apart, Nala knew him too well. She knew something was wrong, and she would find out what sooner or later. But she would never be prepared to hear the truth.

She couldn't hear it. It was too personal of a secret to share—Simba couldn't even tell his best friend, of all lions. No lion knew except Scar, and that was the way Simba wanted to keep it.

* * *

In due time, much to Simba's dread, the lioness eventually appeared from behind a wall of shrubs and a few scattered trees. "Simba! There you are!" she exclaimed in relief, trotting over to the lion's position with haste.

Simba only winced. It was going to happen, sooner or later. And, on second thought, it was most certainly going to be sooner. The lion gulped, wondering only how he was going to keep his secret for a little while longer.

For several agonizing moments, the lioness observed Simba carefully. From her perspective, Simba almost appeared to be physically ill, to a large extent. His face was almost as pale as hers, and his paws shook noticeably but involuntarily. Perhaps it was nervousness, but he had nothing to be nervous about.

Something was wrong, but even still, Nala could not begin to put her paw on it.

Eventually, Nala's voice faded away from a statement of exclamation, into what seemed like a whisper after their long-distance conversation. "What's happened to you?" she asked, her voice as calm and fluid as a feather in the wind.

"I don't want to talk about it," Simba retorted, very bitterly. Although he was partially lying, at this point, the lion still couldn't bring himself to say a word about it.

"Seriously?" Nala asked. "You've been gone all this time, and you're not going to tell me _anything_?" She moved her tail aside, as if it was going to bring about a quick answer to her question.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Simba blurted out what was blatantly obvious. "My father _died_, Nala!"

It took the lion a moment before he began to notice just how clever he was actually being. He was telling the truth, only from a different perspective. He didn't actually say it, but what he said was enough to make the lioness understand.

Upon realizing this, Simba seized his opportunity to bend the truth further. "What do you think happened to me?" he asked rhetorically, both equally hurt and frustrated.

"I know... and I'm sorry this had to happen," Nala replied with the usual sympathy of a lioness.

"But that's why we need you," the lioness added. "Mufasa is dead... but don't you see?" she asked, lifting her head up slightly, while her eyes glimmered in the sunset. "You _need_ to take his place. That's what he would want you to do."

"I'm sorry," Simba replied in total disagreement. It was very much a statement of indifference and independence, and much less a sympathetic response. "I already told you I'm not going back. You're going to have to find someone else."

Nala flattened her ears while her tail twitched with irritation. "Why not...?" she asked. "This is just stupid! It doesn't matter what happened years ago. What matters is that _you're_ the one that can fix it. Mufasa is dead, but you're still here."

Simba bit his lip. What was she suggesting, anyway? He couldn't go back. It wouldn't change anything, and it certainly wouldn't prove anything. It would only lead to his own death.

"Really? How am I supposed to fix anything?" Simba asked bitterly.

"Isn't it obvious? You're the king!" Nala answered. "Well, the Simba_ I remember_ was the king," she immediately added, correcting herself with a less delighted tone. "Your kingdom is being ruled by someone else. You can take Scar's place... you can make this _right_. But only you."

"No, I can't," Simba replied. Finally, he was starting to get closer to revealing the ultimate truth. It brought him great uneasiness, even though he was still avoiding the direct explanation Nala deserved to hear. "That's not my kingdom anymore."

"Yes it is!" Nala insisted. "You're Mufasa's son! The kingdom is rightfully yours, and nothing can take that away."

"No..." Simba muttered while looking away. His eyes fell to his paws, and he could barely even gather the strength to keep his breath under control. His heart and gut were already giving him enough troubles.

"It's who you are," the lioness reasoned. "You can't run away from that... no matter how hard you try." Nala's voice had softened, and her mood had already lightened a bit, now that she was getting actual answers to her questions.

"I'm not the king anymore," Simba replied. "I don't want to be."

Nala took a deep breath, while a deeply persuasive thought entered her mind. "Is that what Mufasa would want you to say?" she asked. "Is this what he would want you to do to us?"

"Nala... you don't understand," Simba answered.

"Obviously I don't."

The lion's voice began to crack. He had no other option left but to say it, but he could hardly bring himself to do just that. He opened his mouth, but seconds passed before a single word even slipped off his tongue. "You don't understand... because I killed Mufasa."

Nala's jaw dropped. Her tail ceased all motion, and her ears shot up in the air. "You... _what_?"

Suddenly, the adult lion began to feel like a cub all over again. The fear and hopelessness he had once felt at the time of the incident never truly faded away. It sat in the back of his mind for the longest time, resting in a dormant state until something reminded him of his father.

Sometimes it was the stars, or the grass, or the clouds, or even the wind. Sometimes, it was just the feeling of the air itself that reminded him of his old life, especially at dawn and dusk. Although the jungle was a very different environment, and Hakuna Matata was a very different lifestyle, there were still many similarities.

It was just an occasional feeling; a feeling that Mufasa was still there with him. It was shallow—barely perceptible—yet incredibly strong.

But this time, however, that state of mind unleashed itself in full force. In fact, the entire afternoon spent with Nala, as a whole, was no exception to such strange feelings. Now, it was simply unbearable.

As Simba tried to explain further, he unintentionally used the very same words he told his uncle. "It was an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen," he pleaded.

In fact, Simba's own thoughts were nearly identical to those of the last time he had ever seen another lion. The current situation with Nala almost forced the mirroring of himself back to that one afternoon, as a hopeless, defenseless, and fatherless cub, crying helplessly into Scar's paw. It was the afternoon he swore to forget, but never could.

As the words escaped Simba's muzzle and lingered in the air, he could only hear his younger self speaking. He said it. It had been heard, and the truth had been revealed. It finally sank into Simba's mind, and he felt his stomach churn even more.

And although he was afraid to even look, he had to know what Nala thought. After what felt like nearly half an eternity, the lion's eyes returned to the horizon, where he found Nala in front of him.

For the longest time, Nala merely remained silent. She stood aghast, nearly as confused as she was horrified. No doubt, she was in a state of complete disbelief, but she would understand soon enough.

"But... how?" Nala questioned. "This doesn't make any sense! Scar told us you both died in the stampede."

Simba had little trouble recalling the event in his mind. Immediately, he corrected Nala as the moment played out in his memory. "I was in the stampede. He died trying to save me."

"Simba..." Nala began slowly. She started to approach the lion, while trying to hold back the deepest emotions of sympathy and guilt that she had ever felt. To put first things first, she had to say something, although her only immediate reaction was to give Simba a big hug.

The thought that Simba believed he murdered his father by needing to be saved seemed almost too ridiculous to be true, but that was another matter entirely. She would get to that in a few seconds.

"It's my fault," Simba interrupted.

Nala smiled. She then placed her paw gently above Simba's shoulder. "No, it's not. Needing to be saved doesn't make you a murderer."

"But if-"

"Simba!" Nala exclaimed almost playfully, which caused the lion to stop talking immediately. Simba had his turn to speak, but this time, it was hers. "I'm not looking at a lion who would kill his father. When I look into your eyes, I know that's not what I see."

Simba turned his head to the side, trying to see his own reflection in Nala's green eyes. It was a rather difficult task, considering that she was trying to nuzzle him. He was incredibly surprised by her reaction, but he still felt apprehensive.

"Well then... what do you see?" Simba almost appeared afraid to ask.

"I see a lion who loved his father very much," Nala explained easily.

A small tear fell from the lion's eye, as the weight he carried for several years was suddenly removed from his shoulders. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes to no avail. The lion's surroundings all faded into a blur of tears, and he struggled to keep up his breath.

After all his time in the jungle, someone finally understood what he had been through. It almost seemed too good to be true. It seemed impossible.

Yet, there it was. Nala knew, and she didn't hate him. It was obvious that she didn't hold anything against him for it; in fact, she almost seemed to be more relieved, than anything.

"I know you would have done the same for him," Nala continued.

Simba closed his eyes for a moment, smiling back at the lioness beside him. "You mean you're not...?"

"Simba," The tawny lioness said softly. She stepped even closer to the lion, before rubbing her head affectionately on his mane, for the second time. "I wish you had told me earlier, but that doesn't mean I'm mad at you."

Within seconds, Simba's knees gave out, and the lion fell to the ground with a thud. Even with four paws, he wasn't able to stand with the many emotions flowing through his heart. Instead, he merely rolled over onto his back.

With a purr, Nala leaned down and licked the underside of the other lion's chin affectionately, while she kneaded her forepaws into his mane. Simba then wrapped his two front paws around the lioness, embracing Nala in his arms.

It was unlike any hug they had ever shared before, even earlier that same day. Not only had they been reunited, but their bond was now stronger than it ever had been before.

As time passed, Simba held the lioness even tighter. He constricted her in his arms, as he ecstatically returned Nala's warm surprise of affection. The lion wrapped his hind legs around Nala's torso as well, eventually holding her as close as he possibly could.

Consequently, Simba began to relax even further, surprised by the fact that Nala allowed him to hold her tight.

"Nala?" Simba asked.

"Yeah?" she replied, looking up and licking the tears from Simba's muzzle. However, Nala immediately cringed at the salty taste, regretting that decision before Simba could even ask his question.

"If I go back... do you think they'll understand?"

As Simba's grip loosened, the lioness rolled over and sat down on the ground beside him. Subsequently, she leaned against him slightly, to make herself comfortable in the dirt.

"It doesn't matter," Nala answered warmly. "You need to come home. You've forgotten who you are."

The lioness then rested her muzzle up atop Simba's mane. She leaned her head back, so that she could see a few stars in the sky, behind the thick jungle canopy. A long silence followed, and the two felines inevitably started to enjoy their night under the twilight stars.

Simba's memories made a return once again, but this time, it was a happy moment. He was not being reminded of what had been, or what could never be. He was reminded only who he truly was—Mufasa's son, Nala's betrothed, and the one true king.

He was about to become the lion he once was, and Nala was there to help him every step of the way. All that remained in Simba's mind was internal peace; he had found the eternal closure that he had long sought after. For the first time in years, he could honestly say that he was truly happy.

And he had never been happier.

Only an occasional purr or chirp of a cricket filled the air, until Simba finally announced his decision. "Tomorrow, I'm taking back what's mine."


End file.
